


friction

by tinyduck



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged up characters, Alternate Universe - College/University, Dry Humping, F/M, Frottage, Oral Sex, Trapped In A Closet, female receiving, i feverishly wrote this at 1am in the morning bc it would not stop buzzing around in my brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29064495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyduck/pseuds/tinyduck
Summary: Hinata flashes you a winning smile, says, “’Scuse me,” far too cheerily, and then squeezes and wriggles his way in front of you, pulling the door shut behind him. Staring at you, entirely too satisfied for someone who’s two inches away from wearing a mop as a wig, he nods in satisfaction.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	friction

**Author's Note:**

> "Here's a list of all the WIPs I have going on," I said.
> 
> "I'm going to ignore all of them and write something for Iwaizumi," I said.
> 
> "I won't start anything new until I finish this piece," I said.
> 
> **You know, like a _liar_.**
> 
> Apparently late night hours are h-word hours for me, which is why what was supposed to be a quick little piece turned into this mini-monster. *insert dick joke here* *insert joke about _inserting_ dick joke here*
> 
> I hope y'all like it! 🥰

It’s Monday evening, and you’re stuck in a closet.

 _Stuck_ , not trapped. Not coerced. Not forced. Stuck.

And purely by your own volition too.

Maybe it’d been a little too immature of you to spray Atsumu with his water bottle, but the yammering he refused to stop had grated on your last nerve, his loud-mouthed retelling of that ‘hot chick he hooked up with last weekend’ growing old about two seconds in, the _first time_ he told it. Grabbing his water bottle, spraying it in his face, and then throwing it at him while he threatened to dump the rest of the contents on you just seemed like the logical solution at the time, but now with a broom handle pressing parallel to your spine you’re having second thoughts. 

The door flings open and you squint at the sudden flash of light, blinking rapidly to try and discern just who the shadowy blob standing in the doorway is.

Hinata flashes you a winning smile, says, “’Scuse me,” far too cheerily, and then squeezes and wriggles his way in front of you, pulling the door shut behind him. Staring at you, entirely too satisfied for someone who’s two inches away from wearing a mop as a wig, he nods in satisfaction.

“I—what— _Shoyou_!” The broom bites into your back as you inch as far away as you can from him, trying not to short-circuit over the tight press of his body against yours. “What’re you doing here—”

“Ah, I uh…” He rubs the back of his head as best he can, flinching when his elbow knocks against a few hanging cloths. “I hit Kageyama while I was practicing serves.”

You narrow your eyes. “But you’ve gotten better—”

“It was on purpose.”

He says it so plainly you can’t help but snort, a hand flying up to cover your mouth as a brilliant smile spreads across his. “Still,” you say with a small cough, struggling to gather up the remaining shreds of your composure, “you can’t just come in here.”

“Why?” Hinata makes a show of looking around the narrow walls, nudging a mop bucket out of the way with his leg. “Does it belong to you?”

The mischievous nip to his voice doesn’t escape you, making you shift, embarrassed. “That’s not the point.” The broom that’s been the bane of your existence for the past five minutes prods ruthlessly in between your shoulders and you hiss, trying to move away and flinching when your chest presses up against Hinata’s. This close you can smell his deodorant coupled with the warmth of his body, like early morning dew on a bright spring day. 

“You okay?” When you do nothing but grumble, he leans forward, and you have to bite your lip to keep the flustered screech that’s bubbling in your throat at bay when you feel your nose brush something warm and soft and _Hinata_. “Why’re you standing in the dark? There should be a light around here; hang on—”

You hear him slap around on the walls as you try and make yourself as tiny as you possibly can in an already tiny space, alarm bells ringing in your head when he does nothing but press _closer_ , pinning you between his hips and the wall. It’s just Shoyou, you remind yourself, carefully, repetitively. Just the man you’ve been pining after for the better part of the past year, the man you sneak one too many glances at when you see him at a party, the man who you’re trying not to breathe in too deeply right now, whose chest you’re trying not to press a firm hand onto, just to drag it _down_. The light flickers on, the single lightbulb enough for you to see every fleck of gold and amber in the warm hazel of his eyes, a swathe of orange hair tickling your face with how _close_ he is.

He blinks and for a heart-stopping moment he just stares at you, lips parted, eyes widening in the sweetest shock you’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing before he scrambles backwards. “Ah I’m _sorry_ —oh _shit_ —” 

In his desperation the mops, already dangling precariously from several shoddy holds, come tumbling down, clean rags fluttering around the two of you like sad, worn butterflies, mop buckets rattling along the tiled floor as the two of you take part in an awkward dance to try and put some woefully limited space between the two of you. 

“Sho, stop moving—”

“Just gimme a sec—”

“ _Ow_ that was my _foot_ —”

“I just need— _whoa_! Oof, sorry—”

“Okay, move—”

“ _Where the fuck are you_.”

Both of you freeze, Kageyama’s voice ripping through the air and echoing in the broom closet. Even from down the hall you can hear him stomping towards you, the walls practically reverberating with each footfall.

You sneak a sidelong glance at Hinata. “You’re so fucked—”

“Shhhh.” He flaps a hand in your direction, ignoring, for the time being, that you’ve got a hand tangled in his shirt sleeve and the other pressed right in the middle of his chest, palm cupped over his heart. 

“Didja find ‘em yet, Tobio-kun?”

Hinata shoots you a _look_ that you don’t appreciate, a playful smile tugging at his lips as Atsumu and Kageyama get closer, two pairs of sneakers squeaking along the linoleum. “You’re fucked too,” he breathes against your ear, his voice just a hair louder than a whisper, ghosting down the shivering sensitive skin on your neck. 

“Does it look like it?” Kageyama sneers, and you huff a laugh in spite of yourself, curling your fingers a little more into Hinata’s chest, settling a little more comfortably against him in a bid to keep from moving too much. You hardly register his heartbeat picking up, don’t even notice the look he gives you, his eyes – still pretty even in the dull light – widening as he licks his suddenly dry lips. 

The two setters bicker, voices rising and falling as they troop past the door, Atsumu sounding way too amused for his own good as he pokes and prods at Kageyama and tells him that’s a ‘real nasty lookin’ bruise ya got there’ and ‘who knew Hinata had an arm on him’. 

Eventually their voices fade away and the only sounds left are the two of you breathing as shallowly as you can, and the rustle of your clothes as you pull away from Shoyou to whisper, “Do you think they’re gone?”

Hinata swallows thickly, eyes darting across your face, dipping down to stare at your hand pressed against him. “I dunno.”

“Should we risk it?”

You look at him so imploringly, the faint buzz of adrenaline still running through you and making your eyes sparkle with childish glee; he can’t really find it in himself to end the moment, but also can’t find it in himself to take your hand in his, so he settles for a, “Nah, better not,” and hopes it’ll buy him enough time to gather some courage.

Your smile crumples a little at the corners. “They’ve gotta be gone by now, and I mean my legs are starting to _cramp_ —”

“Oh! I gotcha.”

Without waiting for a response Hinata grabs your arms and throws them over his shoulders. You have about two seconds to admire the muscles that flex along his back before you’re squeaking as he hooks two firm hands beneath your thighs and _lifts_ with ease, bouncing you a little until you wrap your legs around the narrow set of his hips and cling to him as tightly as you can.

You laugh a little breathlessly, stuttering over his name in such a way that it nudges insistently at _something_ in the back of Hinata’s head. “ _S-Shoyou_! You’re gonna get tired—” 

“I’ll be fine. I can just do this—” He flexes his fingers into the sensitive fat of your thighs, making your legs tighten involuntarily around him as he bounces you _again_ and fills your brain with static as you feel your hips grind against his. Everything short-circuits when he pins you against the wall, hips to hips, chest to chest, nose to nose, and eye to eye as he raises his eyebrows. “See?” 

Part of you knows this is the point where you either nod and smile or shriek and flail, but the way his hands inch just a little bit higher towards your ass leaves your mouth dry and head empty. “This is a little…um…”

“They gotta be around here somewhere.”

Your voice catches in your throat when you hear Jerk and Jerkier round the corner again.

“Ahhhhh I’m sick of it. We’ll find ‘em later. They can’t hide forever.”

“What about here?”

The handle clicks and you cling a little tighter to Hinata. Hinata, for reasons you’re too distracted to pay attention to at the moment, flushes a little darker and drops his head to your shoulder, his breath warm and shaky along your collar.

“A broom closet? Really, Tobio? ‘S a little cliché, don’tcha think?”

“Where else would they be?”

Something nudges at the back of your mind and you finally take note of the volleyball player digging the pads of his fingers into tender flesh. Or, rather, something nudges along the curve of your ass, and suddenly Hinata’s too warm, too close, and not close enough all at once.

Your press your cheek into the curve of his. “…Sho, are you—”

“They’re dumb, but they ain’t that dumb.”

“—turned on right now?”

Hinata lets out a strangled noise somewhere between a laugh and a whimper, his breath puffing along the sensitive shell of your ear as he whispers back, “Sorry. Just hang on a little longer.”

Outside the door, Kageyama’s says, “Have you met them?” as flatly as humanly possible, but his hand falls from the handle all the same. 

“C’mon, I betcha they’re at the gym by now.” There’s indistinguishable muttering, and Atsumu sighs, loud and long. “Stop bein’ such a stubborn piece of—”

“ _Fine_.”

You lick your lips and turn into the slightly sweat-damp hair that’s clinging to his temple. “Was this your plan the whole time?”

“No!” Hinata whisper-shouts, freezing as he cranes his ear towards the door. Sighing in relief when there aren’t a pair of full-time assholes and part-time volleyball players barging into the maximum two-person occupancy broom closet, he continues. “No, it just—” 

He takes a moment to mull over his words as the footsteps fade away, a moment too long in your opinion as you nudge the back of his legs with your heel, ignoring the sweet twinge between your legs when he full-on shudders at the movement of your center against his. “It just what?”

Your own voice has gone husky with desire, your hands greedily tracing along the curve of his shoulder blades. You can see in the way his pupils are blown wide he hears it too. He presses his forehead against yours, and the heat in his gaze threatens to swallow you whole. “It was supposed to be cute.”

The notion, though heart-warming and (relatively) innocent, is anything but when you hear the rasp of desire that slides along every syllable. “Uh-huh,” you say just as softly, just as wired as him as you slip one hand up to tease the hair that curls along the nape of his neck. “I bet it—”

“Can I kiss you now?” 

You stutter to a halt and watch as he licks his lips, his eyes fixed on yours. “Yes. _Yes_ —”

Hinata slams his mouth against yours eagerly, sloppily, the kiss more tongue and teeth at first with a desperation that does nothing but fuel the aching need deep in your belly as you moan against him, letting him lick into your mouth and slide his tongue against yours. 

“I’ve been thinking about this _forever_ ,” he rushes out, hurried and raw as he presses you harder against the wall, hands sliding to grab at your ass as your legs scramble to stay hooked around his hips. “Just—can I—” 

He jerks his hips up a little and you drip a little more into your panties, tugging on his hair and making him moan, cracked and needy. “Yes, god, _please_.”

Hinata slows for a moment, a hand reluctantly leaving you to fumble with his shorts, his hips peeling away from yours before surging forward once more, the thick, heavy press of his cock nudging at the space between your thighs and making you throw your head back, knocking it against the wall as you choke on a groan of his name.

“Feels _good_ —” he slurs out, biting at your lower lip and tugging at it with his teeth as he ruts against you, grinding up against the wet patch you’re certain has started soaking through your leggings by now. With each rough thrust of his hips your chest rubs against his, the pressure against your aching nipples just shy of being enough, tantalizing and teasing and making you arch your back. 

You’re whining into his mouth, pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing, feeling achingly empty as his cock slides along your tingling clit again and again and again. “Sho— ‘S not enough—”

He drops one of your legs and hooks the other one higher, uses the hand that’s on your ass to squeeze it tighter, massaging into the flesh as he bounces his hips against yours a little harder, then stops and _grinds_ so you can feel every ridge of his dick between your slit. “Better? Is that _hnnn fuck_ —is that better?”

“That’s— _oh god_ —that’s it—"

The way he’s rolling his hips keeps knocking yours back against the wall, rhythmic little thumps that make you dizzy as you give up on trying to kiss him back properly, just gasping and moaning and panting against his mouth. Hinata doesn’t seem to mind, just suckles on your bottom lip, coaxes your tongue out of your mouth then suckles on that too. His thrusting is getting sloppier as he tugs at your knee and pulls you impossibly closer against him. “Tell me how it feels. C’mon, tell me how it feels grinding on my cock— _ah_ —”

You mumble something incoherent as he trails his mouth up and down your neck, licking up and down every inch of heated skin he can find. The friction of his shorts sliding along his shaft is sending every synapse into overdrive, the warmth of your cunt branding into his brain even through three layers of fabric. He can feel the material stretched taut across the tip growing damp with each bead of precum that leaks from him, can feel himself throb with each pass along the seam of your leggings. It should be embarrassing, humping up against you like a horny teenager, too eager and too fast and too desperate when he hasn’t even entered you, but when he glances at your face and sees that you look just as wrecked as him, he can’t find it in himself to stop. He knows he looks like a mess right now, sweat beading along his brow, knuckles white with how tightly he’s holding onto you, cock so hard he swears he can feel his heartbeat in it. 

He starts swirling his hips in circles, slow and steady, a shiver wracking his body as he pulls at your ass, spreading your legs a little wider, pressing up a little further against you as if he’s trying to mould your body to his. He bites at your jaw and then licks at it, soothing the sting as his nose presses to the curve of your cheek, his balls drawing tight to his body. “Fuck. You feel so good ‘m gonna cum.”

His words shoot sparks down your spine, makes your chest flush and your blood run hot and straight to the mess in your underwear. You cling a little more to him, digging your nails into his shoulders as you try to grind back against him, but the force of his hips humping against yours keeps you pinned to the wall. Searching for his mouth with yours you draw him into another sloppy kiss, murmuring against his mouth.

“Do it.”

“H-huh?” Hinata pulls away, his eyes hazy with want, lips still spit-slick, a strand of saliva trailing from his mouth to yours. His hips are still thrusting against yours, but they stutter at your words, his rhythm faltering as a low groan slips from his throat. 

“I wanna feel you cum against me,” you breathe, your hands slipping down to his chest to twist in the front of his shirt and pull him nearer. “Please, Sho, let me feel you cum—”

“ _F-fuck_ I— I’m gonna—” He doesn’t kiss you so much as pant and whine against your mouth, his hips stuttering as his cock twitches and shoots ribbons of cum onto the inside of his shorts to soak hot and dirty into the thin fabric of your leggings. The feeling makes your hips tilt into his mindless jerking, a low moan pulled out of your chest as he finally pulls himself together long enough to kiss you properly, still twitching against you.

You comb a hand through his hair as you hum happily, doing your best to push past to needy clench of your pussy. “Have fun?”

“We’re not done.”

“We—what?”

He turns you around with a shaky hand before you have time to react and pushes you against the wall, pulling your leggings down to your ankles with a few firm tugs and nudging your legs as far apart as they’ll go. You’re grateful he can’t see the embarrassed look on your face when he slots his fingers into the meat of your ass and _spreads_ you apart, because you can’t tell if your shame is from how easily he exposed you or from the mess that’s sliding down the insides of your thighs. “Shoyou, you don’t have to—”

“Yeah,” he licks a long line up your leg from knee to cunt, lapping up your juices. “I do.”

Whatever protests you have half-formed are quickly forgotten when he seals his mouth around your pussy and digs his tongue in, curling it through your folds and teasing your entrance with a practiced swirl. You can’t tell if he’s making the mess down there better or worse, can’t tell if it’s his spit or your slick that’s slipping into the crease of your thighs as he eats you out. Your fingers scrabble at the wall as you try to bite back your moans; your breathy little _ah ah ah_ s still spill out anyway, seem to spur him on as he growls, deep and possessive into your pussy. 

“You’re soaked,” he says, completely unnecessarily, almost in awe as he dips his fingers between your folds and slides them through the slippery mess he’s helped make, pinching at your clit with his knuckles and massaging until your legs start to shake and your hips press back towards him. “Fuck you’re so _wet_.”

“I—I know!” you squeak out, mortified, but too far gone to even think about pushing him away. “Just—hurry up before someone comes—”

“Mm, no.”

“ _No_? What do you mean n— _ooh_.”

Hinata slips a finger inside you and curls it, firm and steady, chuckling as your protests dissolve into a high-pitched keen. You let him rearrange your jelly limbs, let him help you shuffle around so you’re facing him, let him tell you to watch him as he sucks on your clit and fucks you open with his fingers, his eyes bright and heady as he watches you intently. You could get used to this you think dazedly. You could get used to having a handsome, varsity-level athlete between your legs, doing that thing with his tongue that makes you—

Your eyes slam shut as you try to grind into his face, hands clenching around nothing until his fingers slide between your own. Your mouth falls open and you let out a gasping, broken, garbled version of his name as you cum, your legs trembling and knees nearly giving out. The only thing keeping you grounded is the steady push and pull of his fingers in and out of your tender walls, the pulsing suck of his mouth on your clit as he helps you ride your high.

You shiver, a hand pressed to your mouth as if it’ll keep the noises from spilling out as Hinata carefully slips your underwear back up, soothingly stroking your legs as you tremble and shake. “You good?”

He sounds a little smug, but you can’t really blame him, especially when he’s tugging your leggings back up and smoothing them over your hips. He stands and lifts the edge of his shirt to wipe the obscene amount of your cum off his face, the flash of his abdomen making your mouth water even as you struggle to remember how to stand.

“That was—” You move your trembling hand to your forehead. “That was good. Really good.”

“Good to know.” His cheeky little smile has grown to the point of nearly splitting his face in two, his giddiness contagious as he leans in to press a few fleeting kisses to your mouth as you hum, content. “We should probably head back, huh?”

You brush your fingers through his hair, smiling at the way he leans into your touch. “Yeah, they’re probably wondering where we are.”

Hinata grins at you, shifting a little closer and bouncing a little on his feet. He has that intense look you’ve only ever seen on him on a volleyball court, or, as you now know, right before rubbing his cock against you until you’re a pleading mess beneath him. “We gotta get cleaned up first. Shower? My place?” 

At this point practice is probably long over, but you find yourself hard-pressed to care. “Sounds like a plan.”

Later when you’re getting fucked in the shower, you’ll make a note to console Atsumu the next time you see him. Because even though he never got to deliver on his threat…well. Someone’s still getting you wet anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! Did you know you can screech at me on tumblr [@chicoree?!](https://chicoree.tumblr.com/)


End file.
